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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191533">Spiralling down, down, down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslyuptonogood/pseuds/siriuslyuptonogood'>siriuslyuptonogood</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Made For You [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BDSM, Bucky Spanks Him For it As Usual, But then they CUDDLE, Corporal Punishment, Dom Bucky Barnes, Domestic Discipline, M/M, References to Depression, References to what is also probably PTSD, Spanking, Steve Makes Dumb Decisions, Strapping, Sub Steve Rogers, TBH Steve needed Bucky to be in control</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:46:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslyuptonogood/pseuds/siriuslyuptonogood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky's gone on a mission with Nat when starts to slump. Radio silence. Then he misses a call. And it's really all just downhill from there, culminating in Steve fighting, once again, in Brooklyn alleys. He ends up with a broken nose and a sore jaw, nothing major enough that it won't be healed by the time Bucky gets home. Except... Bucky is home when Steve gets back with two blacked eyes and he knows exactly what his boy needs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Made For You [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621540</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>194</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Spiralling down, down, down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I feel like I touched on this in "piss poor decisions" but it doesn't always come up, but Steve has a safe word at all times and Bucky will 100% full stop if he says it. Bucky has one too. Safewords are very important and even though I don't always have conversations about them in stories, all the characters have them. Be safe. </p><p> </p><p>Also: Slumping is the word that I personally use when it comes to depression. I'm also trying to get "The Saddening" to catch on, but it's not there yet. (Consider, "Sorry, I can't go to the movies, I am too sad to get out of bed or shower or put on real clothes" vs "The Saddening has come. Raincheck on the movies.") Y'all, I'm on the thirty end of my twenties, a grad student, and depressed, I have to amuse myself somehow. (I'msosorry)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It goes bad on a Tuesday. Which always seems to be the way. Steve has never trusted Tuesdays. His ma died on a Tuesday. He lost Bucky on a Tuesday. The whole day should just be canceled.</p><p>Alternatively, he's slumping. He wants to say it has nothing to do with Bucky being gone for twelve days. And that's partially true. He probably would have slumped regardless, but it's not helped by the fact that Bucky has been fucking off in Russia with Nat.</p><p>Okay, so that isn't fair. Bucky and Natasha are on a mission. The radio silence is just hard for Steve. He needs Bucky and can't even text him. Somewhere about halfway through the day, he just gets mad and he goes to the gym. He murders one punching bag and is halfway through another when his phone starts to ring in his bag. He runs but misses the call anyway. He listens to the voicemail.</p><p>"Hey punk, just a few more days and I'll be home. Miss ya. I can text now and will try to call again tonight. Love you, Stevie."</p><p>And it isn't what he wanted to hear. He wants Bucky home today. Not in a few days. Now. He throws his phone back in his bag and goes upstairs. He spends an hour in the shower and tries to ignore Bucky's voice in his head reminding him about water conservation.</p><p>There isn't a call. But there are texts. Steve only answers periodically. One word answers. The bad feeling invades his whole body and he knows, he knows, okay? He is definitely not following the rules he is supposed to follow, but he is tired. And sad. And angry. And he doesn't give a shit.</p><p>Bucky calls on Thursday. But Steve ignores it. He sends a text. <em>sorry, busy. Talk later</em></p><p>He can't sleep. He puts on a jacket and a ballcap, pulls the bill down over his face. He goes out. He isn't sure what he's doing until he's found himself in a pretty bad neighborhood.</p><p>Fuck. He's Captain America. He can't just fucking do this. Spiderman does it, though, fights crime throughout the city, so why can't he?</p><p>He doesn't lose fights anymore. He keeps a teen from being mugged, detains a skeezy looking guy long enough for a woman to get out of sight. Scares the hell out of a young drug dealer.</p><p>None of it makes him feel better. His whole body feels like it's going to cave in on itself, and so starts home. But Steve is distracted enough that he doesn't notice the guy coming up behind him until it's too late and there is an arm across his throat. But he's Captain America. He isn't going to get taken by some common criminal.</p><p>"Give me your wallet," the guy says, pulling his arm tighter, cutting off Steve's air. But Steve gets him with an elbow to the gut.</p><p>Steve wins, the would-be mugger laid out on the pavement, but he leaves with a broken nose, sore jaw, and, from the position of the break, what he knows will be two black eyes. He sets his nose himself and goes home. He'll heal before Bucky gets back, won't ever have to explain why he's fighting in Brooklyn alleys again.</p><p>He's tired, but he's sure he can't sleep. Can't remember the last time he got a full night.</p><p>Steve fumbles with the keys, gets in, kicks off his shoes and shuffles toward the bedroom.</p><p>A throat clears. Steve jumps, immediately on the defensive until his eyes fall on Bucky, illuminated by the hood light that stays on all night. He is sitting at the kitchen island, still in his stripped-down tactical suit, drinking a cup of tea. Steve doesn't even have to be close to know it's rose and chamomile, the go-to after mission blend.</p><p>"Buck," he manages finally, ducking his head, "I was just on my way to bed."</p><p>"Come here," Bucky says and Steve actually wants to run and hide in the bedroom, but he takes a few shuffling steps forward.</p><p>"Hat."</p><p>Steve takes a deep breath and removes his hat.</p><p>"You into some vigilante justice shit now, pal?" Bucky asked.</p><p>"N... no. Just... well, I couldn't sleep." Steve replied.</p><p>"Oh yeah," Bucky said, sliding down from his stool. "That makes sense." He grabs a chair from the dining table and pulls it out into an open space between the kitchen and living room.</p><p>"Buck..."</p><p>"You been ignoring me. Not answering calls. Only texting back occasionally." Bucky sits down in the chair. "I know you well enough to know what that means. You're supposed to tell me when it starts to get bad."</p><p>"You weren't here!" Steve says, crossing his arms.</p><p>"But I had my phone. I told you I could text. I tried calling you. Were you actually busy or were you just here avoiding me?"</p><p>Steve drops his gaze to the tile floor. He doesn't want to answer.</p><p>"And the nice set of shiners you got there. Blood on your face. What's that about?" Bucky asks and Steve feels the tears starting to gather, stinging at his eyes.</p><p>"Steve," Bucky says and it takes a second, but they make eye contact. "I thought I didn't have to worry about you fighting in dark alleys anymore. I... get that you're bigger and stronger, but... fuck." He sighs and rubs his hand over his face. "Go wash the blood off and take a good look in the mirror. Pajamas. Stap.”</p><p>Steve whimpers, but he does as he is told. He doesn't like what he sees in the mirror. He knew the break would black both his eyes, but it looks so much worse than he imagined it would. And there's blood dried on his nose, mouth, his shirt. How did he not realize he was bleeding?</p><p>He washes his face and strips. He doesn't bother with underwear, just tugs on a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt. The strap is the hardest part. He knows he deserves it. Hell, he knows he's going to feel better afterward, but it takes some effort to grab the strap hanging in the closet. He carries it back out to the kitchen. He stops in front of Bucky who stands and takes the strap, hanging it on the chair. He pulls Steve close, cups the back of his neck.</p><p>"Sugar," he says, voice impossibly soft, "I know you can't control the slump any more than I can. A pretty unfair side effect of all the shit we been through, but you have to let me know before you spiral. Because you sometimes make some pretty dumb decisions. Like whatever it was you went out to do tonight." He pauses at a small, wounded sound from Steve and raises an eyebrow. "You tellin’ me you didn't go out looking for some back alley fights this evening?"</p><p>Steve drops his gaze, doesn't answer.</p><p>"That's what I thought," Bucky says. He pulls back, holds Steve's face between his hands in a way that always makes Steve feel so precious.</p><p>"I'm gonna spank ya. Then ten with the strap, then I'm putting you to bed."</p><p>Steve whines softly. "You're not coming with me?"</p><p>"Soon as I've showered," Bucky says and then he wraps his arms right around Steve's body, just holds him, waits ‘til Steve relaxes in his arms and then kisses his forehead. He pulls back, sits down, tugs Steve over his lap.</p><p>Steve takes a deep breath and slowly exhales, then grips the bottom rung of the chair.</p><p>"Hips," Bucky says and Steve lifts his hips just enough to let his pajama bottoms come down, the cool air making him shiver. Won't matter for long.</p><p>The first is sharp, a surprise, but once Bucky starts spanking, he doesn't pause and talk. Steve prefers it that way, really, even if it hurts fast. He starts to squirm almost immediately, trying to escape the onslaught, but Bucky wraps his metal arm tight around Steve's waist and starts to deliver swat after swat to the tender spot where ass meets thigh. Which makes Steve cry out and kick his legs. He might still be sore there at breakfast in the morning, but this won't last. It never does for long. Bucky says that means he could spank him every day if he wanted to. He'd been joking, though there have been some threats of "a spanking every night for a week." Steve dreads the idea of it. And he never plans to throw himself off a building while jealous and mad ever again (not that he really planned it before) so he should be able to avoid it.</p><p>A sharp slap, harder than any before, makes Steve howl. "Sir!" Cold fingers run across the sore spot. Damn metal hand.</p><p>"You were caught up in your head and not listening to me," Bucky says. "I asked you to spread your legs twice."</p><p>Steve kicks his legs at that. He doesn't want to have his inner thighs exposed, but he feels the metal hand lift off his skin and he quickly spreads his legs. The flesh hand is the one that delivers a dozen swats to the inside of Steve's thighs, and then goes back to his poor, on-fire, backside.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Steve whispers, tears starting to drop down his cheeks. "I'm so, so sorry."</p><p>"I know, sugar, and we are almost done. Up," Bucky says and Steve scrambles to his feet. His pajama bottoms fall around his ankles and he kicks out of them.</p><p>"Hands against the wall," Bucky says.</p><p>Steve hates this position. But he isn't willing to argue. He hurts, knows it's about to be so much worse, but knowing Bucky is here and taking care of everything makes him feel better already.</p><p>"Ass out. Spread your legs."</p><p>Steve presses his forehead against the wall and whimpers softly. RIP thighs, he thinks and then shouts when the strap comes down on one thigh and wraps around a little, hitting that already sore spot with the mean leather. It happens again on the other side. And he starts to sob, face pressed against the wall. Three through eight land across his ass, then nine and ten are again across his thighs, but Bucky nudges them together, so he can bring the strap across both and spare Steve's poor inner thighs. Or, Steve assumes he is sparing his poor inner thighs. And he is grateful for it.</p><p>He needs Bucky. Needs to be held and practically jumps on his partner, though he could do without Bucky grabbing two handfuls of well-spanked ass to lift him, Steve just wraps his arms and legs and sobs against his neck.</p><p>Bucky loosens his grip on Steve in the bedroom, encouraging him back to his feet. "You can lie down on your front on the bed and wait for me to come back, or you can have corner time."</p><p>Steve can feel his lower lip wobbling. "But I want to be with you."</p><p>"And I will be back. I'm being kind right now, punk. I could make you stand in the corner with your hands on your head. Make your choice."</p><p>Steve huffs and climbs onto the bed, dropping down and burying his head in his arms. He pouts and then yelps when he gets a swat for it.</p><p>"Stay there." Bucky strips out of his tactical suit and heads to the bathroom. Steve turns his head to watch.</p><p>Bucky showers. It probably doesn't take that long. Bucky doesn't wash his hair at night, but it seems like hours to Steve.</p><p>"Bucky," he whines when he sees him, naked, his hair in a tight knot on the top of his head. Bucky smiles at him and pulls on just boxer briefs before climbing into bed. He pulls Steve close.</p><p>They just cuddle together for a few minutes before Bucky pulls back to look at Steve. He cups his face, tenderly touching the dark around his eyes. "You feel better?"</p><p>"A lot," Steve replies, "you being in control helps."</p><p>"You could try asking next time, instead of acting out. Doing dumb shit."</p><p>Steve doesn't answer. He presses his face to Bucky's neck. It's hard to admit that he, a one-hundred-plus-year-old man, sometimes needs a good, old-fashioned, bare bottom spanking. He's Captain America, he's supposed to be strong. He's supposed to be a hero. But he sometimes gets overwhelmed by bad feelings and he sometimes needs to get spanked to tears. It is hard to understand. Even harder to be able to articulate.</p><p>"Just promise me you'll try," Bucky says, his voice so soft and gentle.</p><p>Steve manages a nod. He can do that. He can try.</p><p>Bucky kisses him on the forehead, the nose, then the mouth. "I love you. I missed you."</p><p>"Love you, missed you," Steve repeats and his body is relaxed enough now to recognize his own exhaustion. He yawns, he curls close. He drifts to sleep in his Bucky's arms.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Say hey on Tumblr! siriuslyuptonogood~</p></blockquote></div></div>
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